


I prefer the lies, for one more night

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: I have a prompt: Regina asks Emma on a date but Emma thinks is just a girls night so she invites Mary Margaret to join them. (Asked by love-less-more-porn via tumblr)





	I prefer the lies, for one more night

**Author's Note:**

> Set on: In some sort of time pocket just before the Queens of Darkness arc.

 

The outside of the Rabbit Hole was deserted and if it hadn’t been for the cars parked outside the metal door that led to the interior of the bar, Regina would have thought she was staring at a closed pub. She, as every other inhabitant of Storybrooke older than 21 however, knew better. Lips pursed into a fine line, she eyed herself on the reflection of her car’s mirror; nervousness shinning on her eyes in the form of purple sparks that shimmered and danced before she blinked, swiftly averting her gaze.

She was anxious;  she could feel her magic coiled on her stomach, her skin prickling as she picked up the keys, killing the engine of the car and stepping outside the slightly chilled afternoon. She had thought on poofing, even walking, but she had found herself mechanically picking the car at the end, just like she had done before the first curse had been broken; magic returning in the form of heavy fire. Steadying herself, she walked towards the pub, brisk steps and raised chin as she, finally, pushed the heavy door open, stepping inside before glancing at the somewhat heavy air that already permeated the pub.

When she had asked Emma to take a drink with her there she had sensed the confusion from the blonde before she had taken a step backwards, the voice of the Queen whispering to push forward, the voice of the woman she was trying hard to be asking for a kind of detachment she very well couldn’t begin to feign once again. Not after the blonde had appeared, day after day, on her office, bringing her company and ideas -some of them totally ludicrous- so they both could find the Author.

Leads and hunches that had ended up being for naught of course. And yet Regina found herself smiling a little as she blinked, trying to spot the blonde’s head as one of the cars parked outside was the hideous yellow bug that belonged to none other but the younger woman’s. Pressing the palm of her hand against the side of her right thigh, she commanded the magic buzzling through her wrist to calm, to stop. It had been far too long since she had truly lost control like she felt she was about to and yet she couldn’t quite stop herself as her eyes kept wandering from group to group, from table to table, from booth to…

“Snow?”

The brown-haired woman waved at her, swaying already a little as she walked up to her. Distraught, Regina could only wait until Snow reached her, glimmering eyes telling the other brunette more than enough.

“Regina! Thank you so much for the invitation!” It was overly cheery, and Regina wanted to wince before her brain fully registered what the other woman had said, realization dawning on her as, rather than her eyes leading the search, she let her magic made her look towards the counter in where Emma’s unmistakable back could be seen; one of the many jackets she wore still on.

She had thought…

In a hot second the stupid, naïve giddiness she had felt died in a plume of mortification as her eyes zeroed on Snow once more; the sloppy smile the other brunette had been sporting completely gone and replaced in a slightly confused frown. She should have known better. Her whole body had should have known better.

When she had proposed the night out she had said it over a shared bunch of fries, ideas written in pieces of paper and some lost elvish tomes between them both as Emma watched at her at the other side of her desk, crocked smile and feet up the edge of the desk in that way that once upon a time she would have used to get riled up about it. In a way, for a moment, for a second, she had felt at peace with not only the decision of hiding, tucking away the lost, impossible page one of her drawers contained but also with her own decision of letting that one go. She, stupidly, had felt bold and regretless as she had stared at Emma’s green eyes and mentioned something outside the office; something different, fun.

They had never truly done fun and for a moment Emma had blinked at her, dirty white circles growing on her irises before disappearing completely, leaving behind a shy nod and some mumbled words. Inside of her, the Queen had purred, proud, the reality of a pirate in some part of Emma’s vicinity something that had become a rarity ever since Emma had started to spend more and more time with her. And, maybe, because of that, Regina had let herself think, consider, hope, something she had been fiercely fighting against ever since a certain other dark-haired woman had found her digging up a hole for her heart.

A woman that, blinking quickly now, seemed to shake off her drunken stupor far much more quicker than it should have been possible.

“You didn’t want me here.” The words sliced through Regina as she swayed backwards, her hands turning into fists as she glanced to Emma’s back; the blonde’s right hand raised, still asking for a round. Snow’s voice, however, called her once more. “Regina?”

They talked about the act of course, of Regina plucking her heart out, wanting the longing to end, the broken-hearted cracks to disappear. They hadn’t talked, however, of how for a second Regina’s tongue had slipped and had called not only for Henry but for Emma as well. And yet when Robin had appeared short after Regina had felt Snow’s eyes on her. A feeling she had detested, wanted it gone.

“I made an invitation after all.” She finally replied, jaw clenched, and she swatted Snow’s hand away when her fingers came awfully close to her wrist. She had been through far too much for now having to look at none other but Snow White’s eyes as the damned woman glanced at her with something that could only be pity as Regina found herself pinning over her daughter. Over the savior.

She quickly corrected herself, the title leaving a foul taste on the back of her throat, one she had the hunch Emma also felt whenever that title and that power was used.  Yet, the feeling, the wounded pride, kept seeping through her; the Queen growling, ashamed and she quickly called upon the stoic façade that had been her second nature before Snow scoffed, upset.

“Regina.” She began again, and Regina bristled at the tone, at the overtly compassionated pitch, at the pity, at the sadness that the woman she had in front of her had no right on feeling. Meanwhile, at the counter, Emma put some money on the bartender’s hand and picked up what seemed to be one glass of beer, one of wine.

“I don’t know what you think you do, Snow.” She began in a cold whisper and, for a second, she sounded far too close for her former persona. So close, in fact, that she felt herself repulsed by it in a way that made her almost wish for the unrepentant rage she had fed off for so long as it made things easier, duller, in a way she now knew it wasn’t entirely worth it. Entirely. Snow opened her mouth, but Regina shook her head, unwilling to hear anything else. “But I suggest you to stop.”

She had expected a date with Emma, she had expected some time outside the whirlwind that was their lives. She had expected the same kind of stupid and momentarily calmness she had longed as a child, before everything had changed, and she now wanted to close her eyes and turn away.

She couldn’t of course. Which was precisely why when Emma finally turned, eyes finding her in a second before flashing with those white sparks, she didn’t move as Snow sighed and mumbled something awfully close to “You should tell her.”

An idea she wasn’t going to follow. Not when she was hit once more with the reminder that the woman that approached her with a widening smile wasn’t in love with her.

“Just in time, as always.” Those were the first words Emma directed at her, handing her the glass of red wine with a far too exaggerated flourish. “Your drink, your majesty.”

Regina rolled her eyes a little at the title, letting the cold feeling of her current predicament be washed away by the almost far too easy and warm pulse that she got whenever Emma was around.

She would enjoy this, she told herself before letting the blonde lead her to their booth, trying hard on not focusing far too much once more on how free, on how happy, on how her, on how bright, and strong the blonde looked. On how _her_ she was. Outside of him.

She would enjoy this. As long as Emma didn’t ask her; the blonde had always known when she was lying after all.


End file.
